


Bylaw #13

by ereshai



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Break Up, Community: intoabar, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Developing Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 16:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14719982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: “Haus bylaw lucky fucking number thirteen: Ffffuck the LAX team!” Shitty shrieked from his room.“I’m trying,” Bitty muttered. “One of them, anyway.”Eric Bittle goes into a frat party and meets... Stiles Stilinski!





	Bylaw #13

They were nothing like Romeo and Juliet. The whole idea was just ridiculous.

Of course, there were a _few_ parallels.

Bitty had walked into the Alpha Delta Kappa frat party and instead of walking right back out again – it was nothing like Haus kegsters and there were too many people who behaved like they wouldn’t hesitate to lock him in a closet overnight if it took their fancy – he had managed to find the one interesting guy in the whole place who seemed to think he was interesting too. Interesting guys who were also interested in him were in short supply.

Stiles was cute and funny and he had a lot to say about a variety of topics. He was from California, but other than that, they had a few things in common. Stiles was the same age as Bitty. They both went by nicknames. Stiles was on a sports team. The lacrosse team, to be exact.

That’s when Bitty had come crashing back to reality.

“Oh.” Bitty set his cup of crappy beer down on a table and tried to figure out how to gracefully remove himself from the situation. Dammit, he was really starting to like Stiles.

Stiles spoke up before he could think of what to say. “I know that look. That’s a ‘the lacrosse team ate my baby’ face.”

“What on earth?” Bitty sputtered.

“My team’s full of douchecanoes. Ninety-five percent of them are named Chad, for fuck’s sake. One or two of them give off a heavy serial killer vibe, and believe me, I know what I’m talking about. The rest of them are straight up homophobic jackasses. My fellow freshman seem all right, for now, but we are tiny fish in a big pond. So I take it you’ve had a run-in with them?”

Bitty blinked. “Not exactly. I mean, I’m on the hockey team, so…”

“Oh! Yeah, that explains it.” Stiles grinned suddenly. “’Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Samwell where we lay our scene…’ It’s like Romeo and Juliet.”

Bitty laughed. “That’s a bit extreme.”

Stiles went off on a tangent and so did the rest of their conversation. By the end of the night Bitty had Stiles’ phone number and a date for next Friday. And that was that.

~

“So they’re cool with it?” Stiles asked, a skeptical look on his face. “No funny looks or harmless ‘pranks’ or remarks that aren’t quite out of line, but not super-friendly either?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t had a bit of trouble from the guys since I came out. Lord that was scary.” Bitty smiled brightly. “But it worked out all right.”

Stiles nodded and snagged a fry from his plate. They were having lunch together at a local diner that was not regularly frequented by Samwell students, much less the hockey and lacrosse teams. The food was passable, though they didn’t have curly fries (Stiles’ favorite) or anything that resembled what Bitty would consider home-cooking, despite what was advertised on their sign.

“I take it that’s the kind of thing that goes on with your team?” Bitty said carefully.

“Oh, no, they wouldn’t be that nice about it,” Stiles said instantly. “They are not a team you come out to. Not sure how any of them ended up at Samwell. They’re like an island of ignorance in a sea of enlightenment.”

“That kind of prejudice is everywhere, though. Even here. It’s just not as… acceptable to act on it here, so mostly people like that hide it.” Bitty shrugged. “It’s a nice change.”

“So I’m not your dirty little secret because I’m a guy, just because I’m on the lacrosse team. And you’re my dirty little secret because of the guy thing and the hockey thing.”

Bitty threw a balled up napkin at him. “Hush, you. Nobody’s a dirty anything. Just secret.”

Stiles waggled his eyebrows. “I don’t mind being a little dirty.”

Bitty felt himself flush all over. Stiles reached out and took his hand. “Don’t worry. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

~

Bitty liked Stiles, he really did. He could talk a mile a minute, but he didn’t mind that Bitty was a regular old jabberjaw himself. He was sarcastic in a way that Bitty would never let himself be out loud. He listened to Bitty complain about Jack’s dictatorial leadership style. He understood about Bitty’s full schedule – his was just as full – and he definitely understood about not letting either of their teams find out they were hanging out – dating? Bitty wasn’t sure if they were dating or not, but there was kissing involved, so he thought maybe they were.

Lord, that boy was a good kisser. Bitty really liked kissing Stiles. It was the stuff that would logically come after the kissing that Bitty wasn’t sure about, but Stiles didn’t push. Another thing Bitty liked about him.

Bitty was in the kitchen, waiting on his pizza rolls, when Shitty and Holster came through the front door.

“…fucking douchetastic, overfed, homophobic, empathy-lacking, fucking _white_ assholes!” Shitty was in mid-rant. Holster was shaking his head and patting him on the back.

“Overfed?” Bitty mouthed at Holster. What did that even mean?

“LAX bros,” he told Bitty, as if that explained everything, which it kinda did.

Shitty and Holster went up the stairs, Shitty still waxing eloquent about the myriad failings of the lacrosse team.

Bitty’s phone chimed at him. It was a text from Stiles, asking if they were on for Saturday night. Bitty smiled and replied that they were.

“Haus bylaw lucky fucking number thirteen: Ffffuck the LAX team!” Shitty shrieked from his room.

“I’m trying,” Bitty muttered. “One of them, anyway.” Well, maybe he wasn’t quite ready for _that_ , but he was ready for _something_ , and _something_ was going to happen on Saturday night.

~

Nothing happened on Saturday night.

Well, not nothing, precisely. There was kissing – so much kissing – and hands going under shirts and then shirts coming off. Eventually those same hands proceeded down towards the pants area, but before any sort of something of the under the pants kind could happen, Stiles’ phone rang.

Everything stopped.

Stiles rolled off the bed and grabbed it before it could ring again. “Derek, what’s wrong?” he asked as soon as he answered. “Is the pack okay? Is my dad okay?”

Bitty sat up and pulled his shirt back up over his shoulders. This didn’t sound like a social call.

“What? No, no, don’t do that. Wait, I have this somewhere, let me double-check.” Stiles tucked his phone between his cheek and his shoulder and opened up his laptop. “You said _marigold_ and rowan?” He began typing furiously.

Bitty wasn’t quite sure what the proper etiquette was in this situation. Hang out until Stiles was done with whatever this was? Get his attention and remind him he had company? Leave?

“Hmm? No, now’s fine. I’ve got time,” Stiles said absently.

Well. That settled it for Bitty. He buttoned up his pants and shirt, put his shoes on, grabbed his jacket, and went back to his own dorm room. All without Stiles noticing.

This was not how he thought the evening would end, and he was both disappointed and relieved. Maybe he wasn’t ready for more than kissing right now.

~

Stiles apologized profusely the next morning with coffee from Annie’s and a little bit of groveling. It was a little above and beyond what the situation warranted, especially since Bitty was definitely more relieved than disappointed by then and had been half seriously thinking of avoiding Stiles until graduation.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said again. “It was a shitty thing to do. Forgive me?”

“It was probably for the best,” Bitty said slowly. “I mean, kissing you is wonderful, but… maybe we’re going a little fast? For me, I mean. I know it’s been a few months, but I guess I need more time? So if you-“

“That’s absolutely fine. Enthusiastic consent, I’m a huge fan.” Stiles rubbed the back of his head. “So, do you want to hang out sometime soon? Making out optional. My phone will be off the whole time, whatever we decide to do.”

Bitty laughed. “Maybe after the playoffs.”

“Yes! We’ll celebrate your win.”

“Or console me for our loss.”

Stiles grinned. “I am excellent at consoling.”

~

They won the game, but Bitty ended up with a concussion and there was neither celebrating nor consoling. Someone from the team was with him almost all the time during the first week after his injury. He barely had enough time to tell Stiles what had happened without getting caught by someone coming to check on him.

Even after the worst of his symptoms had subsided, Bitty and Stiles still didn’t get a chance to spend any time together. Bitty was catching up on the classwork he’d missed (though honestly, some of it was from before the concussion), which was slow-going because he was under doctor’s orders to take frequent breaks.

Bitty hadn’t spent a significant amount of time with Stiles in more than a month when he got a text inviting him to hang out one morning.

They were sitting on a bench in Old Quad, chatting about their summer plans and drinking coffee from Annie’s (decaf for Bitty because he was still healing from his concussion). People were already leaving for the summer, which meant they didn’t have the anonymity of a large crowd, but they were completely alone. Except for…

“Now why in the world is that attractive man glaring at me?” Bitty asked Stiles.

“Angry hottie alert? Where?” Stiles whipped his head around, his eyes darting to various points around the quad.

“Stop that, he’s gonna notice you looking for him,” Bitty told him. “He’s over by the bridge.”

The moment Stiles spotted the man, he went completely still. “What are you doing here?” he muttered, then grinned. “That’s Derek. He’s not angry, that’s just his face. C’mon, I’ll introduce you and you can admire him up close. Totally worth it.” Stiles grabbed Bitty’s hand and they started walking toward Derek.

“Derek-from-Beacon-Hills Derek? I didn’t know he was coming for a visit. But why would he visit now? You’re heading home in just a few days.”

“Yeah. Let’s find out what’s going on.” Stiles had a bounce in his step, happier than Bitty had ever seen him – which made sense, considering how much he talked about his friends from home. Derek waited for them where he was.

It was definitely worth getting a closer look at Derek, but Bitty had a hard time believing that glare was just his natural resting face. His doubt was justified when he caught a glimpse of Derek’s face softening as he watched Stiles when he thought they weren’t paying attention to him. Not that Derek wasn’t polite, just reserved. Standoffish, his mama would have said, though not to his face.

Bitty let the conversation wash over him; they – well, Stiles mostly – were discussing people and events Bitty didn’t know anything about. None of that seemed to be Derek’s reason for showing up though. All of Stiles’ attention was on Derek and Bitty considered wandering off a bit, just to see if Stiles would notice. Stiles was so focused on their conversation, and he was calmer than usual, too, like he was settled in his skin. Whatever kind of friends Stiles and Derek were, Bitty was suddenly sure Stiles wanted them to be more than that. Maybe this would make what Bitty had to say to him easier to take.

Derek looked over at him, his frown back in place. Bitty smiled and took a sip of his coffee. Derek didn’t seem to like him very much. There was a possibility that he didn’t like anyone, but Bitty had a hunch that wasn’t what was going on here. It didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would.

They fell into an awkward silence. Stiles fidgeted a bit, but before he could say anything, Bitty spoke up. “I’m gonna wait over there.” He gestured vaguely. “Y’all can discuss what needs discussing without me butting in.”

Stiles smiled, relieved. “Thanks, Bitty.” He leaned down and kissed Bitty’s cheek. Derek glared.

Bitty went back to the bench he and Stiles had been using and pulled out his phone to see check the group chat. Everyone was complaining about Jack’s proposed summer training schedule (“I voted for you for captain and this is how you repay me?!?!”) or comparing travel plans (Niagara Falls for Ransom and Holster, prospect camps for Jack, Lardo was going to Vietnam to visit her grandparents for the first time in about ten years, and Shitty was planning to hitchhike his way up and down the coast, but Bitty didn’t think he was serious). Bitty was just asking everyone’s favorite kind of pie when Stiles returned.

Stiles stood there, his hands jammed in his pockets, rocking back and forth a little. Bitty looked around; Derek was nowhere to be seen.

“Bitty, I-“

“Stiles, we-“ Bitty said at the same time.

They stopped, then Stiles nodded at him.

“Go ahead.”

 _Oh good lord_ , Bitty thought to himself, _I’m about to break up with my sort of boyfriend_. “Stiles, I… I think we should just be friends.”

Stiles blinked. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, that’s actually…”

“Stiles?”

“I’m moving back to California. I won’t be back next semester.”

It was Bitty’s turn to blink. “Huh. Is that why Derek was here?”

Stiles shook his head. “That was for something else. No, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I came here partly because of my lacrosse scholarship, but I also needed some space. To, you know, think about some things, figure stuff out. High school was-“ Stiles gestured vaguely.

“And you got everything all figured out?”

“Some of it.” Stiles shook his head, then smiled. “Mostly I miss my dad. And my friends. Plus Samwell doesn’t have a criminology department at all, so…” He shrugged.

Bitty stood up. “Well then, I wish you the best of luck.” He flung his arms around Stiles and hugged him tight. “I guess this is goodbye, then.”

“I guess so.”

Bitty took a step back, still held in Stiles’ loose embrace. Stiles leaned down and gave him a soft, lingering kiss.

“Bye, Bitty,” he whispered. “It was great knowing you.”

“Likewise, Mr. Stilinski.” Bitty pulled away and blinked his suddenly stinging eyes. “You keep in touch, all right?”

“Sure. I’ve got your number and your email. And your Twitter. And your Insta. And-“

“That’s right. I’ll need regular updates on how things are going with Derek.”

Stiles’ mouth snapped shut. “Things with Derek?”

“I know the difference between a natural frown and a grumpy one. I do see Jack’s face every day, after all. That man was not happy to meet me, but he sure was happy to see you.”

Stiles blushed. “All right, all right. Look, I gotta go. Derek’s waiting. Not for that,” he added when he saw the smile on Bitty’s face. “That’s it, I’m leaving.” He gave Bitty another quick kiss, turned abruptly and jogged away.

Bitty sighed. So that was that. He pulled out his phone and checked the group chat for responses to his question. He smiled. He was going to be baking so many pies next year.


End file.
